What Jed Perl is talking about when he talks about never calling it Frisco, in “We Never Called It Frisco.”
Because there is almost nothing funnier than the idea of Herb Caen in Oakland.
At least they seem to at the humiliating defeat of the USA by Belgium at Mad Oak and Speisekammer, yesterday.
That you can make a movie like this is the message.
The campaign against Measure E has created a community around a factlike object: that Oaklanders pay the “highest taxes per capita” in the state.
How to smell Lake Merritt.
There’s something rotten in Jenny Xie’s “Holding Pattern.”
A not-too-short love letter to “a love letter to 1980s Oakland.”
What happens when we say, “When it finally happens...”
Chris Thile shocks and awes in Berkeley as a new war dawns in Iran.
More books should be like Frank T. Marquardt's “Hop Fight,” and, swear to god, we'd say that even if he weren't a paying member of this site.
On Ryan Coogler's sins and the kinds of performances that attract vampires.
I scraped the vibes on BART for the current tech marketplace in paranoia, and lived to tell you what I saw
Not much.
A Tale of Two Murals on Telegraph Avenue, Aaron Cometbus's “The Loneliness of the Electric Menorah,” and Praising the Emptiness
A review of matter out of place, at Huchiun Park in Emeryville.
Contemplating longevity and bedtime with Béla Fleck and the Flecktones, UC Theatre, Last Week
Review of a free book pile: Lawton Avenue, Upper Rockridge